James White - The First Protector

Her face took on the expression of one who does not fully believe her own words as she ended, "I formed the opinion that the map was a picture seen from a great height, from a very great height indeed, above those clouds."

"My thanks again," said Brian. "You speak clearly of what you saw, or perhaps thought you saw but, with respect, you may have been willingly misguided by one you trust…" He turned his attention to Ma'el. "Old man, we would know more about this enchanted chart of yours, but not described in words. We would see it for ourselves."

"I would have preferred that none but my close friends be privy to this secret," said Ma'el, drawing the flat, gray square that Declan had seen him use at the beginning of their journey. "But it seems that Brian and the officers of this ship have much in common with Thomas, the doubting apostle of the Christus, and will not believe my words without physical proof."

While he was speaking, Sinead leaned across the table to move aside the platters, eating utensils, and goblets so that the middle was clear when Ma'el placed the small gray square at its precise center and gave it three sharp taps with one finger. There was a muttered exclamation from Brian, then nothing but ship sounds as the map slowly unfolded itself.

"But, but Hibernia is smaller," Declan burst out, leaning across the table, "and the upper half is covered by that white stuff. It shows Scotia, Cymri, and all of Britain as well as parts of the nearby coast of Gaul, and much more of the Atlantic. This is a different map."

"Be silent,'* said the captain in a voice that needed no volume to gain instant obedience. "Ma'el, this is a strange map indeed, the like of which I have never seen before. From my own seafaring experience, which you may believe is considerable, the outlines and contours of the land masses appear to be both indistinct yet accurate. But this, and this…" his finger pointed at two areas of ocean, "… What is it that I see here? Please do not try to confuse me with words. Let your description be detailed and precise."

Ma'el held the captain's eyes for a long moment before he replied, "Very well, Captain, if that is how you wish it. You are seeing a picture of events that are taking place as we speak, viewed from a space satellite in geo-stationary orbit high above this world's atmosphere. The image has been enhanced because of the reduced level of light from the moon and it is blurred because of distance, atmospheric haze, and clouds associated with a rapidly developing low-pressure cyclonic weather system that you see just here…"

He pointed to the area of ocean west of Gaul where it seemed that the ghostly figures of two fat, bulbous worms were frozen into stillness in the act of curling around each other and chasing each other's tails. His hand moved down the picture and opened in a more inclusive gesture.

"… The large, cloudless area you see," he went on, "is the anticyclonic or high-pressure system which has given us clear skies over the past few days and which, regrettably, is filling and decaying toward the northeast. But it is the deepening cyclone that most concerns us…"

"Wait, wait!" said Brian loudly. "These are nonsense words, the language of Babel. This is more trickery. Captain, ignore the babblings of this old fool."

"You asked for a full and precise explanation, Captain," Ma'el said, "and that is what I am giving you. Even though I am speaking them clearly, many of my words are without meaning to you, but that is because it will be many, many of your years before you and your people will learn how to use them, and the events and objects to which they will one day apply…"

"Captain," Brian broke in again. "I see you weakening. Consider your reputation and ignore this charlatan. These are the ravings of a mind rotted with poppy juice or worse. I strongly advise that you land him and his party in Gaul and be rid of him before he can…"

Ma'el raised his other hand and made a slow, complicated gesture in the air before him. Brian continued speaking, but it was as if he had been surrounded by a wall of silence, because none of his words were being heard, although it was obvious from his expression that he could still hear the others around him. The captain and Seamus stared at the old man, surprise, uncertainty, and a growing respect in their eyes. But whether they were respecting him as a magician for silencing his interrupter or as a foreteller of storms, Declan could not say. Sean, or Sinead, he corrected himself, had the wide-eyed and trusting look of a child.

• "I cannot foretell the exact path of the storm," Ma'el resumed, "only that it will travel quickly through southern Britain and Gaul causing much havoc in its path. The effect on us will be an increasing northwesterly wind that will veer north, gaining further strength and pushing up mountainous waves as it moves until it blows us straight onto the coast of northern Iberia where your ship will certainly founder. That is why you must make all possible speed to seek the sheltering coastline south of Finisterre."

Captain Nolan stared down at the map for a long moment, his brows drawn down and lower lip trapped under his teeth in indecision. Seamus was staring at his superior, also awaiting that decision. Brian, no longer trying to talk, was growing redder of face as if he was forcing himself to a great effort of strength, but it seemed that the wall of silence around him was also restricting his physical movements. Finally the captain spoke.

"I have experience of how sudden and with what violence these winter storms can strike," he said doubtfully, "but never before have I seen their workings explained and shown thus. That is, if it is a true explanation… But wait.

Those twisting clouds, the object you called a low-pressure system, has altered. 1 could swear that the image has changed in subtle details from the one you first showed us. It, it seems to be moving!"

"It is indeed moving," said Ma'el, "because it is a picture of events that are happening as we speak. Please observe. We will look at the area more closely."

He tapped the corner of the map several times in a measured but irregular fashion with one finger. Everyone at the table drew in their breaths sharply, although, where Brian was concerned the sound he made remained inaudible, as the spiral of clouds expanded to fill the entire map. Plainly they could see the great northwestern peninsula of Gaul far astern and a fat finger of cloud curling down to obscure it. The captain swore, but too softly for any of them to hear the name of the god he invoked.

"1 don't know what you're doing or how you are doing it," he said, raising his eyes from the map to Ma'el's face, "and I do not comprehend your strange words. In the future stories may be told about my gullibility, and of how I was led into stupidity by a smooth-tongued trickster, but no matter. Against all sense and reason I shall act on your advice Seamus!"

"Captain?"

"Change course to west by southwest," said the captain, his eyes still on the map. "From what I see here it is clear that we must round Cape Finisterre by mid-day tomorrow. Set all sails commensurate with the strengthening wind and have the oars manned in relays throughout the night. At once, Seamus, if you please. The rest of you may go."

"Wait, Captain," said Brian, making himself heard for the first time since the old man's spell had silenced him, "and be careful. This man is a powerful wizard, I freely admit that now, with my apologies for earlier disbelieving him. He held me motionless while my loudest words fell silently from my lips. But this moving map is an impossibility! He is ensorceling our minds, making us imagine and see moving pictures which are not there. We saw him take the map from an inner pocket of his cloak and, by some trick of the hand, make it unfold itself, so it must be made from the thinnest of vellum. Look here…"